Seven Veils
by An Engineer
Summary: "I'm sorry, Sasuke, you just don't have enough emotion, enough passion..." At least, that was the case before he saw Sakura dance. Based on the bewitchingly seductive opera/ballet "Dance of the Seven Veils". SasuSaku. AU.
1. Prologue

_**Seven Veils**_

**~ O ~**

**Prologue**

* * *

><p>"First oboe, second oboe. Bassoon. The lovely clarinet ladies here... and the violins. Back row, you're all on second violin as usual, of course. My God, don't glower at me like that; you're the ones who barely practice." The footfalls of the orchestra director were as perfectly measured and steady as the clicks of a metronome as she walked along the length of the first row of musicians. She licked a finger every now and then as she separated the pages of music to hand out. It was a part assignment day, and it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Everyone was attempting to telepathically send their names into her mind and their prayers up to the heavens: so and so on first trumpet, so and so on first cello, first clarinet, first viola. <em>Everyone<em> wanted to be first.

"Second violin." The click of her high heels rang out into the otherwise silent room. "Second violin." Click! "Second violin." Click! It was like a game of Duck Duck Goose; nearly every member of the violin section was visibly holding their breaths in quivering anticipation.

In an orchestra, the first chair violin is especially important; they hold the role of concertmaster. The concertmaster is second only to the conductor and leads the orchestra in style and tempo. It is an honor that can be received only by the very best of the best.

In this particular orchestra – it was not a professional one but a group made up of skilled university students – there wasn't an awful lot of true competition for concertmaster. It only ever went to one of two people.

The clicking heels came to an abrupt stop. Sasuke Uchiha had been looking down towards the ground as he nonchalantly tuned his violin in his lap; he seemed to be the only violin not breaking out into a sweat at the suspense. He didn't even look up at the conductor until she licked her fingers once more, extracted six or seven sheets from the mass in her arms, and waved them rather obnoxiously in his face.

"Do you see this, Uchiha?" There was irritation in his dark eyes, in the arch of his brows as he made eye-contact with the tall, blonde woman. Of course he saw it. The whole band saw it. The tuba player way in the back was nearly falling out of his chair trying to see it.

"Read the title."

He fought the urge to roll his eyes at her. The conductor – Tsunade – was a little bit crazy when it came to messing with the heads of the orchestra members. First of all, there was the fact that she stopped in front of every musician and announced to the world what part they had been assigned, a practice akin to calling out individual test grades in front of the entire class. And then there was her habit of handing out music face down until everyone had their part, and then grandly unveiling the piece she had for them.

" 'The Dance of the Seven Veils'," Sasuke read rather woodenly, his voice betraying no excitement.

Thunk! The mass of papers hit the Uchiha's metal music stand as Tsunade let the sheets slip from her hands. Click. Click. Click. She was pacing around her podium now, commanding their attention.

She paused dramatically, held up her conductor's score. "You music history students, who knows what 'The Dance of the Seven Veils' is?"

The second viola player called out the answer.

"An opera. By Richard Strauss," the blonde girl said in a bragging tone before glancing anxiously at the bassoon player seated behind her, looking to see if he'd noticed her display of knowledge. But the boy, who sported a spiky ponytail and earrings and looked like the last person you'd expect to see in an orchestra, was propped up on his oversized instrument, napping.

"Thank you, Ino." The director continued to pace.

"Most of you know of my colleague, Jiraya, who is also in the fine arts department here at the University. He directs ballets. No," she added quickly, before the whispering among the brass players could start, "He is not gay. Though I sometimes wish he was for the sake of the ballerinas." She shook her head in disgust. "He has asked me to collaborate with him in creating a production of the opera that 'The Dance of the Seven Veils' belongs to. He has informed me that it will be very different from the original opera; more like 'inspired by' rather than 'based on'. For starters, it will have no singing – only orchestra and ballet, maybe even some acting."

Immediately the whispers started up like a swarm of mosquitoes.

"Quiet!" Tsunade shouted, her brown eyes flashing dangerously, and everyone immediately shut up. She was a known tyrant.

"The 'opera' is scheduled to go on in a month and a half, maybe two. I'm asking you all if you're up for this performance. You know I'm democratic about our orchestra." A few people coughed in the back at her delusion. Of course, no one said a word against playing the piece. No one ever did.

They had nearly all flipped over their music by now. Tsunade waited for the students to fall silent again before she concluded her dramatic introduction. Everyone was suddenly hyperaware that there were two people's parts in the violin section that had not been called out. A tension built up in the air, a thickness that could only be dispelled with two words. By now even Sasuke was looking up from his violin's tuning knobs, though he still remained untouched by the excitement boiling in everyone else's blood. It was like anticipating a fight. Who would lash out first? Who would win? The blue eyes of the boy seated beside Sasuke were burningly intense. He was the only one not looking at Tsunade; the brooding dark-haired boy with the well-tuned violin was whom he directed his glare at. The look in _his_ eyes said he was ready to fight.

"Sasuke Uchiha," the conductor's voice rang out.

The blond boy leaned forward in his seat, clutching his violin to his orange t-shirt clad chest with straining, white knuckles. The dark haired boy glanced at him and resisted the urge to smirk.

"Second. Chair."

The Uchiha suddenly didn't feel like smirking at all.

* * *

><p>"Who here, my lovelies, has ever heard of Salome?"<p>

No one raised a hand.

The asker of the question, a tall man in green with gray hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, clucked his tongue in disappointment.

"Ladies, ladies... and Neji," he corrected himself, as one of the few boys in the room glared at his word choice, "How sad. Allow me to enlighten you. I have a powerpoint presentation. Sit, sit."

He began to click through the slides that appeared though the projector conveniently mounted to the ceiling of the dance room; several people cringed at the graphic artwork that accompanied the text. Most of it was of old paintings of naked or seminaked women, several of them holding bloody severed heads of all things.

"Salome (pronounced Sal-oh-may) was the daughter of Herodias, a Jewish princess. In the Bible, the story goes that Salome's mother was married to King Herod, and on his birthday, the girl's mother had her perform a dance. To thank her for the dance, the king tells his step-daughter he will promise to fulfull a wish of hers. Herodias anticipated this, and commands her daughter to ask the king for John the Baptist's head on a platter. Having sworn to Salome that he would carry out her wish, the king has no choice but to behead John. And that's pretty much it. In the Bible, it's mainly a big deal because John the Baptist was an important figure in Christianity or whatever." Several people blanched at his casual attitude towards the violent death of a religious figure.

"So, anyway, as the years went by, the Christians began to make different interpretations of the story, until they reached the general consensus that Salome's dance was an attempt some harlot and her mother to seduce the king into giving them what they wanted, and her name became synonymous with a femme fatal. Oscar Wilde's more modern-day play version of the story definitely favors this dangerous seductress view. And Richard Strauss's version is (in)famous for the 'Dance of the Seven Veils'," the dance director, Jiraya, grinned, "I personally thought it was pretty obvious what the Bible meant there by 'a dance that pleases the king'." His students groaned.

"Anyway, I'm telling you about Salome, because _Salome_ will be our spring production!" he cheered.

"But sir, isn't _Salome _an opera? None of us are singers..." a girl seated beside the still-glaring Neji spoke up, her pink eyebrows pushing together in concern. It certainly wouldn't be the first time their teacher had made them take a walk outside their comfort zone.

"You were holding out on me, Sakura! You knew who Salome was and didn't say anything!" The pink-haired girl rolled her eyes at his laughing grin. "Yes, it is an opera, and the orchestra _will_ be playing for us, but I won't make you sing. Our production is going to be based on _Salome_, not the actual piece."

"Joy, something else he can be peverted about," the brunette with the buns on Neji's other side groaned.

"Whatever. As long as he doesn't have you playing Salome," Neji scowled. The brown-eyed girl laughed at his touchy attitude.

The torture wasn't over quite yet, however. "I'm glad you already know all about lovely Salome, Sakura! Because guess who I was planning on casting as her?" Jiraya dug a hand into his hand into his pocket and and threw what he had retrieved at the pinkette's face. It was a silky scarf that she caught between her fingers, the fabric of it shiny and so thin that it was transparent. Uh oh.

"Dance of the Seven Veils, ladies and gents! Can't wait!"

Sakura wasn't exactly sharing the sentiment.

* * *

><p><strong>Wow. It totally took way less time than I thought it would for me to go crazy using nothing but Canon and start writing an AU. *sulks in her lameness* Oh, and I promised myself I would never validate the use of the word "pinkette". Grr...<strong>

**... well, anywho...**

**_Salome _****is a real opera, and all the background information here is actually true. I myself played "The Dance of the Seven Veils" as first clarinet while I was in high school. It's a beautiful piece, and of course listening to it should inspire you all regarding this fanfic, since the whole thing is based on the song :)**

**So what do you think so far? I myself am excited about this story; first time I'll be writing something so... well, yeah, that dialogue with Jiraya there kind of said it all... **

**Please let me know how I'm doing! If you're reading this, you must have taken the time to read the story, and I thank you for that. If you spend just a tiny bit more time to leave me some feedback in a review, I will love you forever! Thanks, everyone!**

**- An Engineer**


	2. Envy

**_Seven Veils_**

**~ O ~**

**I. - Envy**

* * *

><p>The orchestra had begun to practice "The Dance of the Seven Veils" as soon as Tsunade was finished introducing the piece to them. It was the first of the three hour rehearsals they had scheduled twice a week. During those three hours, Sasuke played his violin almost viciously. He cut through all the rhythms like his bow was a butcher's knife cleaving through soft flesh, and he never missed a note. He knew his technique was impeccable and his execution flawless; he just had to remind the stupid conductor of that.<p>

But somehow by the end of rehearsal, Tsunade had not yet announced that she could not bear to have Naruto Uzumaki and his insufferable first violin skills in her ensemble any longer. The woman had to be absolutely delusional. The platinum hair dye that she used relentlessly (everyone knew she was really in her fifties) must have seeped through her skin and caused brain damage to occur.

Therefore, Sasuke decided that matters had to be taken into his own hands. While the rest of the group put away their strings for the day, he ventured into her office, a scowl twisting his features.

"What?" she snapped a little rudely as he entered; she was already busy on her computer with an online gambling site.

"How the hell is Uzumaki concertmaster?"

Tsunade glanced up at him, then reached over to turn off her monitor, snickering. She'd never seen Sasuke Uchiha look so close to actual anger; maybe there was hope for him yet.

"Why not? You two have been neck and neck for about two years now." Sasuke snorted, his face slightly incredulous. They both knew that wasn't necessarily true; Naruto was rough and raw, whereas Sasuke's performances were often flawless. Plus Sasuke had the commanding air about him that a concertmaster needed; Tsunade had gotten the distinct impression that he had grown up in a family with money, power, and prestige. She found his stoic manner and arrogant demeanor hard to tolerate, but she put up with him usually because of his skill.

"Did you not hear him today? He was adding crescendos and rubato and all kinds of the things that weren't written in the music. Therefore he doesn't even know how to read. And his vibrato is uneven. It's disgraceful. He's leading the orchestra the _wrong way_." A hint of impatience was leaking into Sasuke's voice; he couldn't believe she hadn't noticed and acted herself. He had actually sort of respected her as a tough conductor who knew what she was doing and how to get things done. This view was clearly going to be thrown out the window.

"Sasuke," she removed her reading glasses to peer at him more closely, "What is 'The Dance of the Seven Veils'?"

He grit his teeth, "I'm not a moron, unlike some people. You already asked the orchestra that. It's an operatic piece, a tone poem."

"That's right. An opera. Fraught with emotion. Highly dramatic. There are no spoken words to convey the feeling, so the music must take up that role and exaggerate it. Do you understand?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Tsunade sighed heavily, blowing a few loose strands of pale hair up off her face, "Wow. You're obviously not as smart as you think you are, Uchiha. Let me spell it out for you. This piece is emotional. I need emotional players to play it. And you are not emotional."

He scoffed at her, "Emotion is irrelevant; composers write down notes and rhythms and dynamics and effects: it doesn't say anywhere _emotional_ violinists, or _emotional_ cellists needed. If there's any feeling, that's the audience's job."

The conductor made a sound like a buzzer, "Eeeeh, wrong. You're a talented violin player, Sasuke, but you'll never be a good one until you remove that stick from your ass and feel the music. I swear it makes all the difference in the world. And that's not me being stupid," she added, noting the dubious look he shot her, "they're supposed to teach you this in Music 101. So until you learn this for yourself, consider yourself permanently assigned to second seat, behind Naruto. Now that kid has some emotion. Do you see the way he glares at you?"

"No feelings at all… that's really sad..." Tsunade sighed to herself as she watched Sasuke Uchiha stalk out of her office without another word, still looking almost unaffected from their argument and his exile from the position of concertmaster.

* * *

><p>The next day the orchestra had a rehearsal they were in one of the University's auditoriums. The musicians arrived fifteen minutes early in order to move chairs and music stands into the orchestra pit before the practice began. Midway through their work, the doors on the sides of the stage opened, and Jiraya's dance students walked in. They were a cheery lot, most chatting about their weekend plans or sharing earbuds connected to pop songs. They started to stretch onstage as if the orchestra wasn't there, continuing their laughing and playing. Several of the boys in the orchestra paused in the middle of arranging chairs, their mouths slightly slack and their eyes trained on the half a dozen pretty girls contorting their bodies into splits and stretches. Getting her students to focus enough to learn the music was going to be a lot harder than Tsunade had probably assumed. Even some of the female viola and oboe players were gawking at the male dancers in their tights.<p>

"What are you all standing around slack-jawed for? Get ready for rehearsal!" Tsunade's shrill voice yelled from where she'd silently entered through the audience doors; the orchestra scrambled for their instruments and the girls and boys of the dance company looked at one another uncertainly, unused to a strict director. The woman strode down the theatre aisles to the orchestra pit, looking like an executive extremely irritated with her subordinates the way she stalked in her businesslike dark gray pantsuit and pumps. The man who followed in her wake, however, was cheerily waving and winking at the flute girls. He looked like a bum next to Tsunade; his face was beginning to fill in with gray stubble, and he wore sweats and no shoes.

The podium creaked as Tsunade stepped up to preside over her orchestra with all the formality and gravity of a Supreme Court Justice.

"This," she poked the hippie man beside her with her baton, "Is Jiraya, the dance director. Treat his instructions in this production as you would my own." Her face conveyed that she doubted anyone would really be taking the man seriously.

"Thanks," he winked at her; she scowled. "Well, I'd like to do some introductions and then we can get started. We'll all be working together for about seven weeks, and I'd like us all to really get along." He slung one arm lazily over Tsunade's shoulder as if to set an example; she whacked it off. Jiraya just laughed. The orchestra dead-panned, wondering what was wrong with this man mentally that he did not understand their conductor was probably getting ready to decapitate him.

"Come on, girls, Neji," he waved a hand at his dancers; a few of the boys who weren't Neji yelled insults at the director for the injustice.

"Neji here will be playing King Herod," Jiraya patted the shoulder of a tall, graceful boy with long, dark hair in a loose ponytail, "Yep, my only male dancer. He's smart; he gets to spend all day with a bunch of pretty girls all to himself. Well, aside from sharing with me." The other boys just gave up on trying to correct him.

He pushed a brunette forward; she tripped into Neji and his face turned red. "Tenten here will be cast as Herodias; Herod's wife." Now both their faces were flushed below their dark hair.

"Hinata is in charge of choreography of background dancers; this cute little girl is too shy to dance in front of people herself." The slight, pale girl looked like she wanted to die as she shrunk behind Tenten, either from Jiraya's blatant revelation to everyone of her shyness or just the fact that everyone was looking at her. Beside him, Sasuke heard Naruto chuckle a little under his breath, and he saw the blond send an encouraging smile to the poor dancer.

"And finally, this beautiful little lady," the dance director put an arm around the girl's shoulders which she shrugged off, looking like an echo of Tsunade, "is Sakura, who will be playing the role of Salome."

Sakura's name was the only one Sasuke bothered to look up at; he felt he only needed to know who the titular dancer was- the supporting characters didn't matter to him. It was a wonder he expressed any interest at all in who Salome would be, given his emotional track record and arrogance.

She was on the short side for a ballerina, with small features and an air of grace about her. She wore cotton shorts and a sweatshirt over her tights and leotard, and her pale pink hair was pinned to her head, ready to go for a strenuous rehearsal. Something about her was fascinating to Sasuke for some reason; his eyes kept straying to her as if she was some point of interest, like a car accident that people can't look away from. Perhaps it was because she looked so... innocent. Sasuke knew the background to the story of Salome; maybe he was just subconsciously surprised that she wasn't sinfully curvy, the way the dancer of such a seductive dance ought to be .

Tsunade looked a little like she shared the sentiment; she raised an eyebrow thick with disbelief. The dance instructor laughed aloud a little.

"This girl is one of my best dancers." Sakura's face flushed slightly; the color brought out her hair. "And in my humble opinion as an artistic _genius_, I think she is the perfect portrayal of Salome." Jiraya's voice carried through the theatre; he addressed everyone as if he was reciting a monologue. Which he probably meant to do; he obviously had a penchant for drama. "People assume Salome was a cunning and dangerous seductress. But the original story in the Bible never says this is the case; in the beginning she was a girl who danced for her step-father's birthday. Her mother was the one who had an agenda. I think Salome was a young woman just beginning to grow into herself. She was innocent. Her seductive dance is representative of her growing into a woman; she's not a 'slut' or whatever it is you want to call her."

Sasuke and the rest of the orchestra took in the dancer's delicate face, her wide green eyes and almost nonexistent curves, and believed him.

"Well, are there any introductions you'd like to make before we get started, Tsunade?"

She gave him a blank look, "Not really; it's an orchestra - they're all rather equal. Oh, I guess my concertmaster. Naruto, stand up."

The blond obeyed; he brandished his violin and struck a pose for the ballerinas. Sasuke noticed how Sakura grinned at him and gave a little wave. He gave Naruto a dark look. It was supposed to be him standing up there (and not looking like an idiot posing). He shifted his instrument in his lap; purposefully knocking Naruto in the back of the knees with the scroll (_the carved end of the neck_) of his violin.

"Oww!"

"Okay, sit down and let's hurry up and get started," Tsunade snapped. She was obviously already being driven crazy by Jiraya's "chill" attitude toward rehearsals.

* * *

><p>A throne was borrowed for Neji from the theatre department; the groups were starting immediately with Salome's dance, and King Herod was to be portrayed as watching her in his throne room. Neji took a seat with Tenten as his wife, Herodias, perched on the edge of the throne, nearly in his lap. Jiraya had to constantly stop the rehearsal to yell at the boy; he was supposed to be smiling lecherously at the dancing Salome, but he couldn't help but grin like an idiot at Tenten.<p>

It took half an hour for Salome's role to actually begin, Jiraya kept cutting so often. The orchestra was starting to go crazy.

Finally, Sakura glided smoothly onto the stage as the oboe solo began in a lilting, exotic minor key. Her costume would be inspired by the Middle East, but for rehearsal, she was draped in practice veils. These were made of a gauzy plain white material, so thin they were like mist in the air. Obviously there were seven veils, but the way Sakura wore them looked liked she just had a white dress on over her leotard. The violin part in the beginning of the dance was repetitive; Sasuke already had it memorized, and so he chose to watch the dance. The orchestra had never been asked to perform as the music to another event; their concerts had always been pure music before, nothing more. It was better than watching Tsunade conduct.

Sakura started as if Salome was hesitant; her slipper-clad feet were slow, and she manipulated the first veil to block her face often as if she was shy to be performing for the king. But every time she discarded a veil, she grew bolder, and the ways she danced with the pieces of fabric became more and more provocative. Without warning, Sasuke was carried away by it. He actually ceased playing his violin, he was so busy watching her.

How had he thought before that she looked so slender and girlish? Every time she unwrapped a veil, she seemed to grow more enticing. Her face wasn't that of an innocent teenager but a beautiful woman. Her grace was mesmerizing; he found his eyes would get caught up in even the most trivial of things - the way her hands moved as if through water instead of air, the way her skin shone under the stage lights. Her white veils made her look like some sort of angel, but a fallen angel perhaps; no messenger of God would dance so temptingly. Sasuke felt himself beginning to break into a sweat as she removed enough veils to uncover her legs; her bare thighs peeked through the layers of fabric, so alluring it was maddening. Her smile promised more sin than sweetness. He couldn't tear his eyes from the way her tantalizing figure glowed in the dimmed lighting.

The final straw was when she was on the fifth veil. She pirouetted her way up to King Neji, offered him the edge of the fabric. He held on as she spun smoothly out of the fabric, only two sheaths left on her. By that point, Sasuke imagined that the eager look in Neji's eyes was probably for real. For some strange reason he just couldn't take this girl dancing like this in front of him. It simply wasn't right. First Naruto Uzumaki of all people is announced as the concertmaster and Salome smiles at him, _him_! And now this Neji guy gets to literally undress her on stage? He was irrationally and inexplicably angry all of a sudden. This could not go on.

Without really thinking, Sasuke took up his bow and slashed across the most discordant notes he could think of, as loudly as he could.

It worked; Tsunade stopped the orchestra, and Sakura paused in her dance.

And then the entire room turned to stare at him.

Tsunade's extremely limited quota of patience and understanding for the day had long since been depleted by Jiraya. She fell on him with all the wrath of harpies sent from Hell.

"What the FUCK are you doing? ! SASUKE! UCHIHA!" her face shone bright red, her nostrils flared, and a vein was bulging in her neck. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, suddenly aware of how stupidly he had just behaved.

What _was_ he doing? He didn't know that green-eyed girl. She could go work as a porn star to pay off her University tuition for all he should care about her. But his eyes continued to stray up to the stage. Those wide, shockingly green eyes were on him now, and the sensation that a couple of his bones had turned soft remained. She wasn't playing her part as the seductress anymore, but Sasuke could no longer look at her and see the innocent pink-haired girl whose clothes he had certainly _not_ wanted to rip off whom he had first met a mere hour or two ago...

"LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU, DAMN IT!" Tsunade's anger quickly pulled him from his strange reverie. The girl's face flushed, and she looked away from his eyes quickly.

"I got ahead in the music by accident," Sasuke muttered. As far as excuses went, it was quite bad, but this crisis had to be averted somehow. The conductor could quite possibly attempt to kill him; at least then they could use his severed head as a prop in the 'opera' when Salome asks for John the Baptist's on a silver platter. And Sakura would have to kiss him then, like in the original play. Shit... Why did he keep thinking like that? Sasuke had always been smug about his self-control; usually he didn't care about girls at all, and he'd rejected more offers from them than he could count. But he'd also never really been exposed to sensuality much either. Maybe deep down he was just as perverted as every other guy on campus; it had just laid dormant. Brilliant...

Tsunade was still livid; she obviously didn't believe him. But she was also conscious that a room full of people was being interrupted from rehearsing, and that any harm she could cause to befall Sasuke would have an awful lot of witnesses. A cellist sprinted up to hand her her baton (she'd thrown it initially in her anger), and they continued.

For the next hour, Sasuke absorbed himself in his violin, refusing to miss a note or stray even a fraction of a beat from the tempo. He refused to look at the dancers again throughout the entire rehearsal; he couldn't risk it. It shocked him, the way the emotions he'd experienced lingered in him. He'd suppressed having strong feelings for so long that when they returned they seemed to make up for lost time. He recognized the sensation that flowed in him like a fever burning up his blood, making him feel physically ill. He hadn't felt it in a long time.

It was envy. Jealousy.

Every time Naruto's bright yellow hair or his bow flying across his violin caught Sasuke's eye in his peripheral vision, every time Jiraya's voice boomed from on stage "Good, Neji!" "Bad, Neji!" "I'm so proud of that perverted look, Neji! Boy after my own heart!", the emotion surged in him, burning away his usual cool, calm, and collected self, drowning out all rational thought.

As Sasuke coaxed the notes out of his strings, he made a point to memorize them, the exact way they rained down from his violin like a shimmering waterfall in the key of C.

If he memorized it, he'd be free to look at the dancers; his muscle memory would take over. He could keep watching her.

Salome.

Sakura.

* * *

><p>As she danced, her heart wasn't completely in it. It was too ridiculous for Sakura to pretend that awkward Neji with Tenten practically sitting in his lap and blushing like a schoolgirl there was a lecherous old king who'd grant her her heart's desire in exchange for a strip show. Please.<p>

Or maybe it was because there was nothing that Sakura desired in exchange for the dance. The real Salome probably didn't take a lot of pleasure in being gawked at by her old stepfather; she had to have been thinking of his promise to her in order to find the will to continue. But Sakura was fairly happy with her life; even her student loans wouldn't be that bad. Tenten would have been a much better choice; she looked more exotic, and with Neji as her king, she'd be the most beautifully seductive Salome in history. Sakura sighed inwardly as she pirouetted. Even the music was so beautiful; she felt terribly that she couldn't enjoy her dance to its accompaniment more, couldn't do it better justice.

And then it changed. Even her untrained ear could tell that a grievous mistake had been committed in the orchestra pit. The entire production stopped; several dancers looked annoyed at the interruption, but Sakura felt her heart lift once again as she was able to stop her halfhearted dance.

Her eyes followed the direction everyone else's were pointed, straight at the violin player sitting next to her friend Naruto. The boy was darkly handsome; she wondered if they were all looking at the right person - he didn't look like the type who committed embarrassing faux pas or errors. But then the conductor started wailing like a banshee at him. Sakura's heart went out to him; she actually felt incredibly grateful to him for providing her a way out of her dance.

As that thought crossed her mind, his eyes suddenly looked straight back into hers, as if he'd read her mind. They were pitch black, the equally-dark eyebrows furrowed over them as if he was struggling to do a difficult math problem in his head. As she stared back into the stranger's eyes, she thought she saw something else there. If that something had been more apparent in Neji's eyes as he played his role, Jiraya wouldn't have insisted on so many do-overs. It was desire. It wasn't a drooling desire either, like the looks on the faces of many of the brass players. No, this boy's eyes hid his emotions as if they were valuable secrets. The longing in his eyes looked like it pained him. The boy - she now knew his name was Sasuke thanks to the orchestra director's yelling - was looking at her like he wished she'd start taking off her veils again, only just for him.

She shivered involuntarily at the thought and purposefully broke eye contact with him.

But as they did the dance over, Sakura felt different. When she looked into Neji's pale, washed-out irises, she instead thought about the violinist's dark, tortured eyes, smoldering at her. She finally found her inspiration to dance as Salome. Before she hadn't been able to do it properly because she didn't have the emotion the role required. No, Sakura didn't want a promise for anything offered to her by a king. If she thought about those black eyes, she could actually imagine she wasn't dancing for an old man but for a lover. Someone she _wanted_ to see her dancing the Dance of the Seven Veils...

* * *

><p><strong>I <strong>**got the nicest review from Asha3 who told me how much this story could mean to her because she's such a fan of the ballet. Thank you, Asha3!**

**Please excuse my being forever tardy; just think about how cool Kakashi is when he does it. (He is my man-crush; I need to write him into this story somehow even though that is completely unplanned! Ugh!)**

**And thank you to whoever is taking the time to read this. If you could take a tiny bit more time to leave a little feedback, I would be even more eternally grateful! **

**- An Engineer**


	3. Greed

**_Seven Veils_**

**~ O ~**

**II. - Greed**

* * *

><p>When Sasuke let himself into his apartment, he did something he'd never done before. He dropped his laptop bag on the glossy wooden kitchen table, found a plain white undershirt and a pair of black sweatpants on the floor that he thought were clean, and then took his violin out of its case. It was a beautiful instrument cushioned in deep red velvet and carved of extra dark wood, with his family's crest embossed on the tailpiece. It always felt pleasantly warm whenever Sasuke laid his fingers on it, as if it had a little heart fluttering away beneath the strings. It had first belonged to his great-grandfather.<p>

He never played at home; he had too much pride to even appear as if he felt the need to become better than he already was. As he padded barefooted across the worn, wooden floor without bothering to turn on any lights, Sasuke told himself that this wasn't going to be _practice_; he just wanted the sound of a violin in his ears.

The Uchiha didn't bother to take out his sheet music; he knew already had the piece more or less memorized. He went on to spend about a quarter of an hour searching for the notes he could hear echoing in his head, left over from the rehearsal. He slowly taught himself the trilling oboe solos and the flute melody that sounded like crystals hanging in air. The parts didn't sound quite right on the violin – they were the wrong color – but Sasuke decided they would do for his purposes.

He inhaled deeply and started to play several lines in, skipping to Salome's entrance into the throne room. In his mind he imagined the pink-haired dancer and her pale pink slippers gliding soundlessly, gracefully, lusciously across the stage floor. He smirked to himself faintly, feeling a funny sense of triumph. There was no Neji now, no Naruto, no anyone. Just her, him, and the violin. He watched as she swung her hips to his slow, sensual beat and the veils fell fluttering to the floor, one by one.

This time she was all his. His stomach clenched and he played all the more intently at the thought, unconsciously leaning forward as if to reach out and touch his delicately twirling fantasy. The veils fell away; the violin sang out, the strings vibrated as if with anticipation...

"What are you doing?"

Sasuke's eyes snapped open in shock – he hadn't remembered even shutting them – and he nearly dropped the violin. He swore as the instrument slipped from his neck and whacked him hard on the arm.

"What are you doing back so early? I thought you had to work," he muttered darkly, trying to hide his embarrassment with irritation. He shoved the violin away as if he could hide it from the view of the figure leaning casually in the doorway.

"Let off early," his roommate shrugged, stuffing his hands nonchalantly into his pockets, "But you still haven't answered my question."

"Nothing. Something. None of your fucking business, Itachi," Sasuke hissed defensively, the expression in his dark eyes irate. With a creak, he quickly raised himself from the bed he'd been sitting on as he played, held himself tense as if ready for a confrontation.

"... Whatever, little brother," the older man shook his head as he shrugged out of his jacket, looking a little amused. It had been a long time since he'd heard a violin playing in his house; at least since he'd graduated from the University with a degree in architecture. Naturally he'd had to give up playing once he started working, but he passed on the family torch to his brother when Sasuke started his post-secondary schooling, five years his junior. His ridiculous little brother... He resisted the urge to laugh at the scowl on the boy's face as he backed out of the room to hang up his jacket and car keys.

But perhaps he would listen outside the door, Itachi mused as he made himself a cup of tea in the kitchen. He removed his black-rimmed glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose and the bags under his eyes; it was going to be another long night for him – he could use some enjoyment in it. And his younger brother was much better than he remembered him being. Such raw, powerful feeling in his notes...

~ O ~

His brother had already heard him playing, so Sasuke figured it couldn't do any more damage to keep going. He got up to turn out the lights and open the window; the moonlight that streamed in through the glass did a better job of mimicking the dusky atmosphere of the stage.

The music flowed like cold water, smooth and pure, from where the bow met the strings. He started off as mysteriously as Sakura hiding behind her veils, the memory of her hesitant, teasing steps throwing his pulse throbbing in a state of suspense. The tempo of the dance was as slow as the thudding of a heartbeat, maybe even slower. In his memory Sasuke watched her strip so slowly and temptingly, every fiery cell of her body rippling perfectly and sinuously with the beat. His own heart began to beat faster, but Sakura remained maddeningly in control, took her time seducing him. He soon became frustrated; he picked up the tempo of the music suddenly and the notes lurched like electricity applied to a dying cardiac patient. The violin screamed with his emotion, became frantic, desperate, excited. He was completely overcome by the dance, the sensations, the wide green eyes and slender hips that he could not get out of his head.

By the time Sasuke reached the end, he was sweating with effort. The hairs of his bow were hot to the touch with friction, and when he looked closely he realized that he'd actually worn his D string past a point that was acceptable to play on. He was scowling at the bad string when his brother's low voice carried to him through the darkness. Sasuke turned to see his tall silhouette barely visible in the darkened doorway.

"Sasuke, are you okay?" Itachi sounded as calm and casual as usual, but there was an edge of wariness in his words. His gray eyes flickered over his younger brother, silently taking in his disheveled hair, his wild eyes and drenched, feverish skin. The way he looked like he was burning inside, like he was being consumed. Itachi's gaze came to rest on his brother's hands. It took Sasuke several beats to look down and notice that they were shaking.

He swallowed hard; his throat felt like it was scorched too.

"... I don't know."

* * *

><p>There really was something wrong with him. The other night he'd played off the incident with the violin for his brother, put it away quickly, and managed to calm down. He'd become angry with himself for getting "caught up in the moment"; that sort of thing simply did not happen to him. Control had always been one of his greatest virtues.<p>

But today, in the middle of rehearsal no less, he was reacting the same way to the sight of Sakura. He once even accidentally began to play the flute solo, prompting Tsunade's legitimate attempt to murder him with her eyes. Yet he barely noticed her disapproval or even Naruto's smirks at his mistakes; Sasuke kept his eyes on the stage. It was a surprisingly good rehearsal: the male dancer, Neji, was confined to his dorm room with some sort of flu, so Sakura did her dance with the brunette girl standing in as the king.

He soon found himself absorbed in everything about her, not just the appeal of her figure. The way she fidgeted with her hair during cuts and held her bobby pins between her lips as she redid the updo, even though it still looked fine. How even her normal walk had a grace to it. He knew he never would have shared granola bars and smiles with his fellow dancers the way she did, had he been in her shoes. He found himself rolling his eyes with her whenever Jiraya tried to throw an arm around her shoulders.

The first time she did her tantalizing dance for her female friend standing in as king, the brunette had pulled loose a long lock of her hair, held it over her lip like a man's mustache, and tried to look lecherous. Sakura had stumbled right out of her leap and held on to her stomach as high peals of laughter erupted uncontrollably from her chest. He'd never heard her voice before, and he soon became obsessed with the sound. It was clear and pleasantly low pitched for a girl, like the sweetly melancholy-sounding middle range of his own instrument. Soon he couldn't play a middle C without hearing her voice in it. It should have annoyed him more than it did, how she quickly and completely she was invading his mind.

~ O ~

It turned out that a couple of the other dancers – like Neji – had become sick, probably in the residually bitter winter weather as the region made the slow transition into spring. After an hour and a half, both the orchestra and the ballet company were allowed to take a fifteen minute break to help anyone not feeling well.

Sasuke usually never made use of breaks; he would either continue to play for himself or wait for everyone else to return, as if to prove that he didn't need to be babied. Today was the first time they'd share a break with the dancers though. He considered staying behind in the pit until he saw Naruto glance up toward the stage, thunk his violin hastily down on his chair, and volley enthusiastically up over the side of the structure.

The blond made a beeline for where Sakura sat on the floor stretching out her legs, flanked by her friends – the female king and the shy choreographer. Sasuke's eyes narrowed at the flash of her teeth as the pink-haired girl grinned up at the fool easily. Was she trailing her hands so slowly and enticingly down the curves of her legs in the fool's view on purpose? There was no way Naruto wasn't noticing that when even at a distance his own mouth had gone dry. He had to know what their connection was.

He tried to time it carefully. Sasuke watched the body language of the group, trying to anticipate the topic of their conversation before he got up with the excuse of buying water from the vending machines to the side of the stage. He tried not to be too obvious as he breezed within ten feet of the chatting group, listening hard.

"Why couldn't this break be longer? I am so hungry! I'm doing all the work here as first violin, you know. You dancers have it easy," Naruto was griping. He held his stomach as if he was in acute pain, "I swear, it's been since breakfast that I last had a bowl of ramen..."

"... that is disgusting," Tenten wrinkled her nose at his eating habits as she took a bite out of a crisp, ruby red apple.

"Isn't it? Their treatment of us is sick; we need to form a union," the blond pouted, completely missing her point, "After lunch though. How about it, Sakura? You, me, a bunch of ramen? I'll even pay, so it'll be a proper date!" He made begging eyes at her unabashedly. Sasuke stiffened at the sudden turn of conversation; he lingered in the wings of the stage, waiting as intently as Naruto was for her answer.

"Shut up!" she punched him in the shoulder with enough force to tip him over. They grinned widely at each other and suddenly Naruto laughed out loud.

"Ha, I haven't asked you on a date in years."

"Yeah. Because you have no money to pay, stupid."

"More like because you always say no," he grumbled good-naturedly, "Honestly, you know you're like my sister Sakura... my annoying, stupid sister who I would never, ever spend cash on. Nope! Now, someone like _Hinata_, on the other hand, would be worth it," and the blue-eyed boy grinned his first genuine smile.

The water Sasuke brought back from the vending machine did little to nothing to quell the burning desire he felt raging inside. Naruto wasn't anything to her, and Neji was at the very least out of commission for awhile. She would be his; not just in his fantasies but in the flesh. Naruto flirted with the shy brunette. His brother had had his share of girlfriends. Why couldn't he have Sakura then? Sure, he'd never bothered with girls before, but then that was because until now he'd never met a girl who was actually worth bothering over.

His blazing, dark eyes roamed her body as she danced exaggeratedly in slow motion through some of her more elaborate moves to warm up. He'd seen thousands of faces and arms and legs and waists before; how was it that these were the only ones that so effortlessly set his mouth dry and his heart racing? Sakura was driving him absolutely mad, and he knew the only solution was to have her, to quench his aching thirst. He clenched his fists unconsciously.

As he watched her, he noticed that she was listening to music through earbud headphones. She seemed to move most passionately when she was listening to something. So Sakura was affected by music... He couldn't resist the slow smirk that spread across his features. Two could play at her game.

* * *

><p>She pressed her thumbnail into the power button of her tiny music player and watched as the screen went dark. She popped the headphones out of her ears as Jiraya hefted himself over the side of the stage and many of the orchestra students, Naruto included, ran back into the pit before they could be yelled at for being late. Sakura permitted herself a brief glance across the dim stage, in the direction of the violins. The boy with the tousled raven black hair who always sat beside Naruto was already warming up in his seat, ripping smoothly through sets of scales. The movement of his hands over the strings and bow were controlled, his long fingers almost quivering with tension. She could perceive the reigned-in power there.<p>

Ever since the very first day when the conductor had yelled at him and their eyes had met, Sakura felt her attention drawn to his corner more and more frequently. When she danced, she felt prickling sensations shooting into her skin, as if someone was watching her intently. But every time she looked, he was studiously watching Tsunade, ignoring her. Whatever Sakura thought she had seen in his eyes as he'd first looked at her, by now she'd convinced herself that she must have imagined it. Every time her eyes wandered in his direction, he'd struck her as cool, calm, and collected – the tall, dark, and incredibly handsome type who didn't dare deign to notice the mere mortals surrounding him. One hundred percent in control. There was no way.

She shook her head in disapproval at herself. It still wasn't fair of her to pigeonhole him. And today he did look more... frazzled... than he had at other rehearsals. His face seemed drawn and pale, his dark hair closer to a disheveled wreck than the usual windblown tribute to his straight, symmetrical features. Perhaps even he'd fallen ill, Sakura mused.

Deeply pitched drums began to thud from the depths of the orchestra pit; eighth note ostenotas and clarinet runs flew by as she took her position. The frantic introduction quickly slowed down to at least half the original tempo: her cue to begin.

Her next signal – the one to begin removing veils – was the fast-approaching flute solo.

She glided across the stage, muscles tensed lightly in reflexive anticipation as the chords in the music began to build. Tenten leaned forward in her throne a little more intently and the orchestra seemed to hold its collective breath, waiting, as every flick of Tsunade's baton inched them closer. None of them could help it; they'd all heard the song too often to not anticipate her cue.

Finally the notes trilled out, floated lightly on top of the entire orchestra, pure and exotic. Every note was perfect; the sound practically shimmered in the air. But it was wrong. It was only the hours of training and deeply ingrained professionalism within Sakura that allowed her to drop the first veil on cue and begin a fouetté with the second; had she had to think through the actions, she would have simply been frozen in surprise.

It wasn't a flute playing the solo, but a violin.

Things were very different from every other time she'd looked over into the pit. The darkly beautiful second violin – Sasuke – played on as if oblivious to everyone else's surprise. No, not oblivious, she amended, more smug, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. The mischievous glint in his dark eyes as they languidly appraised her figure before sliding up to meet her gaze suggested nothing less.

She felt herself flush at his stare, got a little lost in his intensity. With the loss of focus, her ankle trembled on her next piqué, and she stumbled.

Sakura only colored more deeply at the embarrassment of her mistake and the quick little sigh she heard under Jiraya's breath. Was the violinist actually smirking at her slip up? The heat in her face wanted to turn into anger. The music didn't allow the transition. The notes that came from Sasuke's violin seemed to be saturated with the emotions of the dance. Somehow she felt herself _wanting_ to dance more convincingly than she ever had before; the music had touched on a well of intense feelings within her, and she had no choice but to let them out. As she threw herself into her movements, she told herself this desire to be more seductive than ever was a reaction to the derision in the violin's eyes; she had to prove she could make up for a mistake, still be perfect. But her eyes could not help but become drawn to his with every new leap and scale and turn and eighth note, and she wondered if she wasn't really just being charmed by some real-life Orpheus…

~ O ~

Sakura's green eyes remained connected to his as if they were being held captive; he himself seemed to be incapable of looking away. Tsunade was now conducting directly to him, yet he didn't look at her once. A smirk pulled at his lips as he watched her slip. She was distracted by him; she couldn't take her eyes off of him. He would cause her to know what she'd put him through now, every aching second paid back in full.

It was backfiring a little though; those green eyes on his were like an electric shock applied to his body – every cell felt hyperaware. He could not control the excitement he felt; having her attention reminded him too vividly of his moonlit imaginings of possessing her. And still… it wasn't enough. Yes, she was curious and attentive, but he had to make her feel as cuttingly deeply as he did.

Sasuke poured more into his violin than ever before; he'd never had such potent emotions for the instrument to manufacture into music before.

And the result was immediate.

As the music grew more frantic, more ear-splittingly high and fantastically discordant, the ballerina too spun and whirled as if in an uncontrollable frenzy. It was like an outside force was egging them all on. There was an air of urgency palpable in the air as the girl, the boy, the entire orchestra and company raced, hearts pumping, to the climax, the resolution. If it had been a color, it would have been the red of sun beating through closed eyelids – hot, penetrating.

The final three screeching notes. And then it was suddenly, completely, cavernously silent in the auditorium.

To the students it seemed like ages until Tsunade cleared her throat matter-of-factly and rather awkwardly, the first of any of them to break the spell.

"Uchiha… er, thank you for noticing that the first flute had to go home sick. I'm sure we all appreciate you filling in the solo." She wiped her sweaty palms on her dark jacket, looking uncharacteristically fazed.

"Yes, yes, thanks, Mr. Uchiha!" Jiraya abruptly followed suit, cheering from where he stood in the audience, "So helpful. You have the nicest students, Tsunade. If only I had some more boys than Neji; the girls are so cold to me…"

Sasuke nodded his head just slightly in acknowledgement, fighting back the triumphant smirk he felt prickling beneath his facial muscles. His pale cheeks finally had a flush of color beneath the sheen of sweat, and the burning in his eyes that Itachi had noticed the night before had returned. The first adjective that popped into Tsunade's head as she evaluated him critically was that Sasuke Uchiha actually looked "alive"… She never looked up to notice the way the girl playing Salome looked _paler_ than usual, the way her chest heaved and her legs trembled, the way her bright eyes were also on the Uchiha boy. But Jiraya noticed.

"Yes… I'd like to talk to you about something, in fact, Uchiha," Tsunade muttered as the rest of the orchestra was finally dismissed. She motioned him aside with two brusque flicks of her red nail polish-sporting fingers.

Sasuke could feel Sakura's eyes on his back as he followed his conductor without another look at her.

* * *

><p>"I could help you, you know."<p>

Her head popped up from where she'd been digging in her duffel bag for her cell phone, her expression startled. The low voice seemingly came from nowhere; she'd thought everyone had left the auditorium by then.

She now had a voice to catalogue with the striking face. Sasuke the violinist stood in the shadowy wings of the stage and a few feet from her, his hands stuffed in his coat pockets as his dark eyes watched her search. Those eyes were at the moment unreadable to her.

Sakura straightened up out of her crouch quickly, raising an eyebrow at him. Help her? More like torment her, she thought wryly.

"What, are you a dancer too? Are you correcting my form?" She gave his stiff figure a critical glance. Not that she didn't like what she saw... there was just no way those broad shoulders had ever been covered in a leotard.

He snorted lightly, shot her a look that said he didn't appreciate the comment.

"Of course I'm not a dancer." His irritated expression morphed into a fiendish smirk as he added, "And I wouldn't dream of correcting your _form_. I think that's probably perfect." He spoke the words so measuredly; her eyebrows knit together as she struggled to understand if he meant for his words to carry that double meaning or if she was imagining things again. He just didn't seem like the type who would use a come-on line like that…

He watched as she zipped on a jacket over her sweatshirt, his eyes refusing to miss the way she pulled her hair out of the collar and let her ponytail curl down her back. His gaze lingered on the delicate slope of her exposed neck. A few escaped strands of pink hair rested against the hollow below her ear; it took genuine willpower for him to prevent his hands from reaching up to brush them from her skin. They were starting to ache with all the tension he was putting them through lately.

She squeezed the zipper on her coat tightly between her fingers as she hiked it as high as it would go; she thought she could not be just imagining the way his eyes followed her motions, as if he wanted the coat off of her body rather than on.

Sakura stared back at him for a long time. He wondered what she saw in his face.

"Well then, what can you help me with?"

She was surprised when his intense expression gave way into a small, lopsided smile. She couldn't help the little stutter of her heart as she realized again just how handsome he was. But that wasn't right to think about... she didn't even know him...

"I could play for you, while you dance. You're a soloist; I'm betting you practice a lot more outside of two mediocre group rehearsals a week. Maybe you've got this song to listen to on an iPod or something, but trust me: having a musician would be a lot better." He took a step towards her, lowered his voice a little as if he were telling her something in confidence. "I can pause. Go slower... faster... easily repeat it over and over again if you want." Okay, there was no way she was imagining the innuendos, Sakura thought to herself. She tried to stay collected, hoped that her skin wasn't flushing – she certainly felt hot enough for it to be.

"Well, why should _you_ help me? There's a whole orchestra at my disposal." She tossed her arms out to encompass the dark and deserted pit yawning before them like the entrance to the Underworld. She tried in vain to ignore the fact that they were completely alone together in there, to stay calm at the thought.

The smirk returned. He bent over a little, closer to her ear, and this time he really did whisper.

"Because I'm the concertmaster."

* * *

><p><strong>… I'm in trouble, aren't I? Yep… it has been awhile. Let me just tell you all it has been certifiably <em>crazy<em> around here. I actually celebrated my birthday (yay!) and then caught a really nasty flu at the celebration some friends threw me (ugh…), and then, as if that week of being incapacitated wasn't enough, the week after that I found out I was accepted into an honors program I'd applied to and then had to write like, a buttload of essays. I guess good news holistically, but _exhausting_ good news…**

**Some of the most awesome news of all was the reviewing on the last chapter! I had so much wonderful feedback; thank you each and every one of you reviewers from the bottom of my heart. That little bit of reader-author communication just makes my day every time. Please keep on letting me know how I'm doing! **

**Thank you, guys!**

**- An Engineer**


	4. Gluttony

**Seven Veils**

**~ O ~**

**III. - Gluttony**

* * *

><p>He liked to tell her it's not a big deal he plays for her. His dark eyes are always very serious when he claims that if he's going to practice his violin, he may as well do it in a way that will benefit the entire production. Her green eyes always narrow in suspicion, and he'll think maybe he's fooled her. Maybe she can't see how much he wants her. Really, for a medical researcher in training, he wondered if she wasn't actually a little bit oblivious to not be able to see something so obvious.<p>

Sasuke didn't stay in the pit when he played for her; he would sit himself in Neji's throne so that she could hear him better. She cracked up the first time she saw him there; the difference between him and Neji was just so funny. He'd scowled at her – she knew by now that he didn't like being laughed at – and muttered something under his breath that she couldn't understand. She thought it sounded like something about him being better than some stupid male ballerina, but Sakura's not sure she heard correctly.

It's funny though, because she _did_ think he was better than Neji. Sakura stood by her belief that Tenten would have been a better Salome, because then the way King Herod would look at her would be perfect. The poor light-eyed boy was still getting yelled at in rehearsals for his mediocre performances. But then every day after rehearsal, when she and Sasuke would linger behind everyone else and Jiraya would toss her the auditorium keys with a little knowing smile, she'd see The Look again. The first look she'd ever seen in Sasuke's dark, endless eyes. The kind of look Jiraya would have killed for Neji to be able to muster.

She realized Sasuke must be very passionate about violin; she only ever saw him look so devastating when he played for her. She never tried deluding herself that the desire was for her. All he cared about were Richard Strauss' eighth notes. Sometimes he even had to close his eyes when he played for her, and she imagined that he wanted to be alone with the overwhelmingly beautiful music. There was certainly nothing overwhelmingly beautiful about her.

* * *

><p>During the rehearsal that followed the completion of a huge chemistry test, the kind that keeps a person awake for a week studying, Sakura cracked. At least that was the only phrasing she felt really accurately described her shocking behavior that afternoon.<p>

Their practice session was nothing short of usual, except maybe her eyes were a little redder around the rims from lack of sleep and she hadn't given her hair a good brushing in awhile. Sasuke was there, sitting in King Herod's throne, eyes positively smoldering with the music as his long, skillful hands seemed to caress the violin, and suddenly she just couldn't take it anymore. She told herself she just wanted a decent Kind Herod. She knew deep down she really just wanted Sasuke.

She asked him to take it from the top again and he complied calmly and wordlessly. He played her back the notes the same way he always did, but she didn't do her dance the way they'd grown accustomed to practicing it. Even though he sat in Neji's chair and in the real production Sakura included the King in her dance, when it was just her and Sasuke, she would treat the chair and the person in it like an extension of the pit. She never got near him, was always careful to not even accidentally touch him or smack him in the face with her wildly flowing practice veils.

As she began her dance, she turned and faced the wrong direction, faced Sasuke. His eyebrows fell over his coal eyes in confusion, but he continued to play without interrupting her, the notes continuing pure and flawless.

Until she gracefully sashayed right up to the throne and started stripping the veils right in front of him. The light wisps of fabric stroked at his face teasingly, snaked around his shoulders and neck. A smooth hand against her own lithe legs, a dramatic dip that exposed her neck beautifully for him. A tentative, feather-light caress of his cheek. Her hands were cold. His face went hot.

Then the violin gave a little gasp as if it was surprised, and the music stopped. The instrument's master was too composed of a person to gasp himself, but Sakura couldn't help the involuntary smile twitching at her lips as he rose quickly from the throne to tower over her and she saw that his face looked red.

"_What_ are you doing?" he grit out, dark eyes narrow and guarded, locked unforgivingly on her face.

"Well, I've been thinking. What good is all of this extra practice if I'm not even doing the dance correctly? I need to include Neji's part too. And since you're already so conveniently sitting in the throne..." she grinned at the look on his face. Really, it actually did make sense. She sobered a little, "It's hard dancing for no one, you know. Just calling up emotion for nothing..." she trailed off.

He watched Sakura through narrow eyes. And then he thought about the way imagining her made _him_ play violin like he never had before, and he knew that she was serious. Dancing wasn't really just dancing, nor was playing merely plucking strings. It was art, it was disciplined and technical... but it was in fact feelings more than anything. He was surprised he'd never seen this before.

Sasuke stared at her for a long time, the look in his eyes wary as he seemed to assess whether or not she was being genuine. Anxiety began to curl nauseously in her stomach as she wondered if she had pushed him too far. Finally, he sat slowly back down on Neji's throne. The harsh, guarded look in his eyes had softened

"From the top?" was all he asked her, punctuated with a little sigh as if he simply found her tiresome. She shot him a breathtaking grin; he couldn't help the lopsided little smile he returned.

* * *

><p>"Well, <em>well<em>! I knew I would be interrupting _something_, and honestly, I thought it would be something juicier than _this_..."

It was about an hour after the tension of Sakura's miniature revolution and Sasuke had quickly accepted his new, active role as King Herod. They had even started messing with the choreography a little. Sakura was the roommate of the quiet Hyuga girl who designed it all, so she knew what she was doing as she had suggested tweaking her friend's solid lyrical foundation. He went along without argument; hell, he would never tell her he thought so, but he actually enjoyed some of the formations they performed together.

The accusatory words boomed out at almost the precise moment they finished their last run-through. Sakura had wanted to play around with interpreting Kind Herod as being more dominating over Salome while she willingly performed her dance, and that particular set-up was Sasuke's favorite so far. The final intense, screeching notes from his violin were punctuated by Sakura falling into his throne (she'd had him up and stalking around her dancing form before this final move) as he leaned into her, cornering her as if ready to devour her. And it was in this compromising position – she draped against the prop and vulnerable, his lips nearly at her neck – that they were discovered.

Sasuke nearly tripped into her, and Sakura practically flipped backwards out of the throne in shock as the sound of slow clapping and Jiraya's boisterous voice carried across the auditorium. The gray-haired man took his time approaching the stage, grinning as his dancer tried to compose herself.

"S-sir, I, we-," Her face was darker than her hair as she struggled to disentangle herself from Sasuke. He scowled darkly at the large old man over his shoulder as the dance director hoisted himself up onto the stage with a grunt.

"Yes, Sakura, I am disappointed. Very disappointed," he sighed, bent a finger at her stiffly by means of summoning her to his side. "Disappointed I didn't find you two attractive, young kids going at it! Seriously, missy, candid stuff is the best!" He slung an unwelcome arm across her small shoulders.

"..." She could not find words for her stupid, stupid teacher. Mortifying, just mortifying. To think he had just said that with Sasuke only a few feet away. Sakura began to wish desperately for superhuman strength... to pummel him with.

"I mean it, Sakura! You have been in my company for a couple years now; I'm starting to worry about you! You're in college; you aren't supposed to be a virgin or whatever. It's like a class requirement. And look at how handsome this young man is!" as if it couldn't get any worse, Jiraya actually had the density of mind to crudely point an index finger at Sasuke, who was standing by moodily with his violin, wondering if he was required to suffer through this abuse or could actually leave.

"Ah! And it's the soloist... concert-guard-person! I'll get Tsunade to remind me of your true title! Yes! Fantastic!" Jiraya clapped his hands at him as if he'd just performed a piece.

"… hn."

"Oh, I see. You're one of those 'stoic' types. The tall, dark, and mysterious act, yes?" Jiraya made mocking air-quotes in response to Sasuke's lack of a response, "Then I suppose it's kind of amazing that you're a better King Herrod than my own student. _While_ playing a musical instrument. What, were you in marching band in high school or something? Wow. Talent."

While Sasuke's eye twitched in annoyance at being mistakened for a marching violin and the blood vessels in Sakura's face threatened to burst from the strength of her embarrassed blushing, Jiraya stroked his square, stubble-studded chin thoughtfully, oblivious to their discomfort.

"Yes, I am disappointed that this research excursion wasn't all I thought it would be," he muttered to himself, "But I think I've stumbled upon something even greater, thanks to you kids..." His dark eyes darted down toward his nonexistent wristwatch, "Ah, look at the time! I've got another appointment lined up after this, so I'll be seeing you at rehearsal!" He stared at them both expectantly as he rose to dismount from the stage, "Please, feel free to kiss goodbye now. No? Come on, look how pretty this girl is, Marching Band Boy! Fine... Later!"

The auditorium doors banged shut as the old dance coach let them fall behind him. The stage suddenly seemed very quiet in the absence of his loud voice.

"... 'another appointment'?"

"Please, just don't ask."

* * *

><p>She was zipping up the little pea green jacket like she always did when it struck Sasuke that he'd never seen her in anything else. Tights, leotard, shorts, sweatshirt. Bun or ponytail, or the transition in between whenever she self-consciously fidgeted with the mass of pink locks. Nothing else. Not even plain jeans. Then it struck him that he'd never even seen her outside of the auditorium. For all his consuming hunger for her, when it got right down to it, he was treating her like a favorite television drama to be tuned into once or twice a week.<p>

He was frowning at that as she pulled her bag onto her shoulder (like she always did) and said goodbye, locking the stage door behind her before breezing out of sight. He listened to the sound of her street shoes slapping against the marble floors, so much more jolting and harsh that the delicate swooshing of her slipper-clad feet on the stage.

Their entire relationship together was on the stage. A surreal and shimmering sham of a thing, magical and intoxicating in the moment, but in the end just make believe. She didn't know what he felt for her. Hell, _he_ didn't know what he felt for her.

Sakura's footsteps had by now faded below the threshold of his hearing, probably carried her over the threshold of the building and out into the night. He wondered if this was supposed to be a turning point, as he listened to the harsh footfalls mellow into near-nothingness, like when she danced, and then into _actual_ nothingness. Emptiness. Gone. If he was in a movie, that realization would he his cue to run after her, ask her out for coffee, walk her home, kiss her.

He hesitated. That kind of action would be so mundane, so boring and stupid and uninspired. She excited him, and he was beginning to see that was the case even when she wasn't Salome. But to break the spell the theatre seemed to cast... what if that allure went away too? Then he remembered the thought he'd just had, about tuning into her rather than actually being involved with her.

That seemed to make up his mind. Sasuke groaned a curse, made sure his violin was strapped securely across his chest, and then his footfalls were echoing out, loud and hard and empty, after hers.

~ O ~

He discovered she liked mocha flavored coffee but not caramel, had an impressively high tolerance to cold considering she ran around wearing shorts in forty degree weather, and that she lived in a dormitory across campus with the shy choreographer girl, Hinata. That night he watched her push the bell outside of her building, juggling her bag and two large coffee cups in both hands and kissing her roommate's cheek as she let her in with a smile. He watched her do all of these things, and she never once saw him, following a ways behind her.

Sakura's pink hair glittered an unearthly silver in the moonlight. He knew she was still wearing her practice clothes, so she would smell like the mixture of satin and soap and apples that he would catch a hint of every time she twirled closer to him, reminding him of their time together onstage. In the night, the air of magic lingered, and so he was able to stay with her without worrying. And he did so, watching her a little every night he could; his apprehension faded and he was glad he'd made this compromise. He liked finding new little pieces of who she was, and while remaining safe with his own secrets intact.

The thought that it might be difficult for him to actually _stop_, he pushed to the back of his mind, before the degree of his obsession could worry him.

* * *

><p>"Hey! Sasuke? What the hell are you doing out here?"<p>

He flinched. It was a Thursday night. Sakura had gone inside a few minutes ago, and he'd been standing outside of her dormitory, staring almost unconsciously at the little golden square of light a few stories overhead that he wanted to imagine was her room. He liked knowing where she was. The bright, buttery light made him think of her as it twinkled cheerfully, alleviating the darkness around it.

It was Naruto's loud, coarse voice that interrupted.

The young man was poised on the concrete stoop of the building, giving Sasuke a quizzical look below raised eyebrows. The dark-haired boy saw that he had a red and violet arrangement of flowers clutched awkwardly in one tanned hand. He saw the collar of a dressy shirt poking out of the blond's jacket, looking like it did not belong there, and there was a slightly frantic, nervous look behind his glassy blue eyes. But he was still asking for an answer.

"Taking a walk, stupid," was all he shot back before quickly turning away and leaving the rival violinist behind before he could ask another question. His ears didn't catch Naruto's muttered response clearly. The boy shrugged to himself and disappeared into the brick dormitory.

Returning to the stoop once he saw Naruto had gone in, Sasuke observed through the large backlit front windows as Sakura's roommate, the soft brunette came down to greet the fool, her face as red as the roses she accepted from him. She led him toward a set of elevators. Then, a few beats later, none other than Sakura herself came down in a different elevator car. He saw that she was wearing the same sweatshirt she had on earlier, but she'd changed into red flannel pajama bottoms and had a fleece blanket crumpled up in her arms.

The remains of some mascara were smudged around her half-lidded viridian eyes, and she collapsed onto one of the sofas in the ground floor student lounge as if she'd recently completed a marathon. But there was a pretty little smile of knowingness on her pink lips as she wrapped herself in the blanket, her hair getting cutely ruffled in the process. She must have let her roommate have her privacy for the night, he realized, and he found himself quietly impressed.

There was a campus security guard just a few yards away at the front desk, so he knew she would be fine; he realized he should be giving her her _own_ privacy now. Sasuke turned away and began the long trek back to his brother's apartment. His breath fogged in the air before him, but his memory of her sleeping curled up in warmth on that sofa somehow kept him warm inside as he walked.

It wasn't until he was inside, until he'd shed his bag and his coat and stood staring at the aesthetically perfect, architect brother-approved living room they shared, that he realized. The spotless and ultramodern, ultrasophisticated couch before him was such a contrast to the cracked, old leather piece in Sakura's building. The contrast was them. Sasuke stared at his barely touched sofa, thought about that other loved and comfortable and alive couch, realized the chasm between them.

He felt so secret, so cold and unused. He would be alone; no one would dare sleep on him for fear of putting the perfectly composed cushions in disarray. If Sakura saw this couch, would even she want to sleep on it? As if he could even share such a thought with her. She was loved and warm and surrounded. He was comparable to a sheet on the tile floor.

He picked his belonging up off the floor and threw them onto the stiff cushions in spite at that ugly thing.

Despite the thrum of the central heating, Sasuke suddenly felt very cold.

* * *

><p>"Um, do you hear that?" She had suddenly paused almost mid-leap, jerking him out of the slight reverie he fell into as she danced.<p>

He shot her a pointed look that said he was holding a wailing violin less than a foot from his ear – of course he hadn't heard anything else.

"A thumping noise?" Sakura trailed off uncertainly, swiping at the little hairs that had escaped her bun as if they were embarrassing her. He rose smoothly from the throne to stand beside her as then listened. As the seconds ticked by, she tried to rack her brain for an excuse, but could only focus properly on how good he smelled, standing so close to her. Oh dear.

It was then that the auditorium lights flickered twice before dying completely, plunging the two – alone – into complete darkness.

He heard her give a soft little moan of dismay, and her fingers clutched for him reflexively in the uncertainty of the abyss.

Her hands found the softness that was the front of his shirt; she was surprised when he didn't object to the way she was holding onto him.

He carefully reached a long arm around her to feel for his violin; once he was satisfied it was secure and out of the way resting on the throne, he placed both of his hands tentatively on her warm shoulders, pushed her down gently to sit on the floor with him.

"We can't move, Sakura. We won't know if we're walking four feet off the edge of the stage and into the pit."

She said nothing in response. As they sat together in the silence, they could clearly hear the thumping, and even more quietly the whistling of a strong wind. A couple of skylights punched into the ceiling had been left uncovered, and the smallest bit of light filtered through. Their eyes adjusted enough that she could just make out his face as she spoke.

"A storm. It's knocked out the power lines... damn, I shouldn't have missed the weather this morning." He watched her pale hands as they fiddled with the auditorium key in the dark shadow of her lap. "And even if we can feel our way to the door, there's a security system that's been set. If there's no power, the door won't unlock, even if we have the key."

"We're stuck in here."

"Yep." They both fell silent again, not knowing how to follow the news. Then he heard her give a little sigh, and there was the sound of rustling fabric.

"Sorry," she murmured as something limp thwacked him on the arm. He realized it was her sweatshirt she was taking off, leaving her shoulders and arms and neck exposed in her thin sleeveless top. Despite the cold of the auditorium that did not seem to bother her, he broke into a sweat at her stripping.

He licked his dry lips. "Sakura...?"

She bunched the sweatshirt up on the floor and laid on it like a pillow. "Well, it's late, and there's nothing to do until the power comes back. I have lab in the morning, so goodnight?"

He nodded at her and then remembered belatedly that she could not see him well in the darkness.

"Hn." Monosyllabic answers were the safest things; she'd never hear his disappointment in his voice. She turned away from him to sleep on her side, and he resigned himself to watching her fingers brush through her hair, taken out of its constant ponytail so she could sleep without a bump against her head.

~ O ~

"Sasuke." She was lying flat on her back now, and the name sounded weird the way it resonated in her reclined chest.

"Hn."

"It's been _hours_. It's at least midnight by now."

"I know."

"They won't find us for _ages_."

He sighed at the flat, miserable tone of her voice. "Try and sleep, Sakura." Did she really find being trapped here with him so horrible? She would probably be having fun if he was Naruto instead, he thought bitterly.

"Isn't that what we've been trying to do for the past two hours? The floor isn't so great for sleeping on," she griped. He frowned when her words recalled the image of their couches that he'd been comparing a few nights previous. He knew she wouldn't like hard, cold things; if she liked him, instead of just lying around for two hours they could have been talking, or laughing, or kissing, or...

He sighed more loudly in frustration. "Do you want my jacket? Or... I don't know, an arm?"

"An arm?"

"To rest your head on. I could lay one out." God, he sounded stupid. She was quiet for so long he knew she must be laughing at him inside, or planning her outraged rejection.

"No, thank you," she didn't sound rejecting, but a little shy instead. This surprised him a little, but nowhere near as much as she startled him by suddenly bolting upright beside him and reaching a small hand out for him in the darkness.

"I know what to do! You can teach me how to play music! I've always wanted to learn, you know." He couldn't see her eyes shining in the darkness, but he could just hear the eager glimmering in her voice. How could he refuse that? Hadn't he been wishing morosely to be able to connect with her? He was never the best at talking. But music...

He sighed at her again. "Fine." She worked to stifle her little squeal of excitement as he retrieved his instrument from his chair without leaving his spot on the floor.

He didn't teach her how to use the bow, or even how to hold it right – he couldn't exactly see what they were doing in the dark – but his skilled fingers could see the strings in his memory, and he taught her notes. A, B, C, D, E, F, G. Half steps in between. Things called scales. Thirds. Fifths. Major. Minor. Chords, endless chords. He was glad that the darkness hid the little smile he felt his face morph into as he heard her stilted, plucked versions of children's songs. Soon she was pushing his helping fingers aside, insisting that she could do it all herself now. The B flat scale was her favorite. He grudgingly admitted to her when she asked that he was fond of the key of D himself.

He made as if to lie down now that his job as music theory professor was over. On the way down, his head accidentally brushed against her leg in the dark. He stiffened.

"Sasuke?" He didn't answer her.

"Thank you for teaching me. If you want to sleep, you could lay your head on my lap to be more comfortable. It's the least I could do in return, and I promise, I'll shut up soon." Sakura's plucking was already sounding more skilled; it was sort of like listening to an amateur guitarist.

She coaxed a simple little pattern in a minor key out, paired it up with solemn hummed notes. To his surprise, it sounded like a sad, pretty love song.

"Sasuke?" He didn't answer her; he was afraid she'd stop.

She thought he had fallen asleep against her lap. She kept talking as she played, thinking he didn't know.

"This song is how you make me feel inside. Like it hurts, but because there's something so beautiful before me that I don't know if I can bear to touch. Does that make sense?" She laughed a little; it sounded wry. "No wonder you look the way you do when you've got this thing in your hands. Yours emotions just flow through the strings like a live current, don't they? It's amazing. Just like dancing I think." She started to pluck with one hand, using the other to brush his hair from his face, and he continued to feign sleep. He was startled into opening his eyes as he felt a drop of moisture hit his cheek. It slid down to his lips, and he tasted salt.

"Sakura?"

She started in the darkness. "Sasuke? A-are you awake?"

"I thought I felt something while I was sleeping," he lied, "Are... you alright?"

She discreetly wiped an arm across her face as she handed over the violin, "Yeah, yeah. Um, hey, would you mind playing for me a little? Not _Salome_; I'm kind of sick of her. Just, whatever you want. Like, Bach? Yeah, Bach is good; I heard Yo-Yo Ma do him once."

"He plays cello," he scoffed at her as he retrieved his bow. She stuck out her tongue.

~ O ~

He proceeded to play every song he could summon from his memories, and he played them until his wrists and fingers were sore. When he proclaimed himself done, she grabbed the violin and twanged out her little melody again. As they played back and forth in the dark, they exchanged a few scattered words. She told him stories and he answered her questions, or occasionally told her some kind of anecdote that went with whichever song was pouring out of the strings. A few scattered words that were somehow more meaningful, because those notes are pure feelings flowing between them.

By the early morning hours, the howling of the wind had finally died away, and both of them were too tired to hold the violin up any longer. Sakura had put her sweater back on and somehow wound up resting her head in the crook of Sasuke's arm as she fell asleep.

* * *

><p>When Sakura woke up, one of the first things she noticed was the red glow of the exit signs mounted in the theatre. The overhead lights had gone through an automatic shut-off already so they would not flip back on, so this was their sign that the power was back. They could leave. For some reason, the news didn't make her feel any better.<p>

The hard wood of the stage floor was freezing, even to her. But during the night, Sasuke had unconsciously wrapped his arms around her so that they were both twisted up in his coat and her tangled hair. His breath came hot and deep and even against the bridge of her nose. As she watched his sleeping face from below her lashes, careful not to budge an inch, she couldn't bring herself to extract herself from his embrace - even if he didn't know what he was doing.

So instead of searching for a clock, she judged the time by the daylight coming through the skylights. Her laboratory class would probably be starting soon, and she had the key to leave. Make ups were too difficult to risk. She really should go. Soon. Now.

Maybe it was an impulse, though she knew she was not a rash or capricious sort of person, but the knowledge did not have her getting up to search for her shoes. She watched the sleeping face of the young man beside her, gave a little sigh – of happiness or wistfulness or exhaustion, she did not really know yet which she wanted most to convey– and snuggled deeper into the surprising warmth of his arms. For someone who acted so coldly toward her, she figured it was a miracle to see him like this. Maybe he would be angry when he woke up, but she decided it was worth it to have these few moments. It had been so long since she had been close to anybody, she mused.

It had been all she could do throughout the previous night to give him clipped responses or to pretend she wanted to sleep and ignore him. In truth, Sakura just didn't completely trust herself around him. She wanted him so terribly much... but she valued the little scrap of a thing they had together that perhaps she could be allowed to call friendship. That was certainly all the disinterested Uchiha would offer her.

It was better than nothing. She couldn't push him. She knew by now that she needed him. She shut her sleep-hazed green eyes again, waited for unconsciousness to overtake her. Not that any dream could be nicer than her current reality.

"Wow, you two are just gluttons for punishment, aren't you?"

This time her teacher's voice came from the wings of the stage; she had been so drowsy she hadn't even heard the backstage door opening.

He sighed. "And I see yet again I have been disappointed. Nice hair though." Jiraya grinned at the way her pink locks stuck up in the back. "Makes a person able to imagine how it got all tousled like that at least, right?" he teased.

If Sasuke hadn't already been woken up by the dance director, Sakura jumping out of his arms and halfway across the stage certainly jolted him into awareness.

"Sir, _seriously_? We just got stuck in here when the power went out; that's really unnecessary. I'll find someone in the dean's office to talk to about sexual harrassment if I have to," her face had gone red with anger; the show was a little shocking to Sasuke, but Jiraya practically ignored her. Apparently it wasn't that abnormal for her to lose her temper in dealing with him.

"Yeah, okay, Sakura, I figured as much. Have a sip of coffee; you're just grumpy in the morning."

They both continued to glare in mistrust, but she melted when she found out it was mocha. Jiraya sat on the ground with them while Sasuke watched her drink.

"So I came to rescue you two (as if you really wanted rescuing from this little love nest, ha ha ha!), but as the ones who helped inspire my latest and greatest tweak to our show, I wanted to let you both know. I've spent the past couple days talking with old Tsunade. Finally got her to agree to what I wanted last night; had to take her out drinking first of course." Sasuke seriously struggled to process the image of the strict director actually out drinking as the older man continued.

"The way you two connected to do that dance, even though you belong to the word of music and you to dance, was really inspiring. You _made it happen_. You figured out how to translate it, found the common denominator. I want that for the entire production. So Sasuke, we're making you King Herrod permanently. Neji's going to be a prison guard or something instead. The whole orchestra is going to be on "common footing", so to speak, with the dance company. Some other violins or flutes or whatever with move with the dancers, and the orchestra as a whole is going to be raised from the pit to the stage. It's going to be interactive between the groups."

Sakura's anger could be impressive as a thunderhead, but the cloud also dissipated too quickly and easily. She grinned widely at her teacher, "That sounds really beautiful. Dance and music, working together. Wow. Okay, I still like you, I guess. And Sasuke is really going to be Herod?"

"Really. I'd say get used to seeing a lot of each other, but...yeah."

* * *

><p><strong>Lots of people are making guesses at the seven deadly sins chapter name references! Still can't believe I went with that angle; what an incredible FMA nerd I am. *shame* <strong>

**So... this chapter is linked to _gluttony_ in that, as Jiraya says, they are gluttons for punishment. They start enjoying each other far more than they think they should. I mean, Sasuke's practically stalking her at times! (which is so out of character for him! Ugh! *bangs head into desk*)It's not really necessary for him to be playing for her, so he's kind of pushing his luck by taking too much.**

**Thank you for reading! Sorry it's been such slow going; waiting for inspiration to hit is like waiting to be struck by lightning while it's not storming. Longer chapter though! **

**Listening to the song "Your Song", the version by Ellie Goulding, as I wrote this. Kind of fits the tone of the last part of the chapter?**

**Read and review, please! Much love.**

**- An Engineer**


	5. Lust

**Seven Veils**

**~ O ~**

**IV. - Lust**

* * *

><p>"You guys! Casino Night is happening this weekend! That's like, even better than the pancake days the all-girl dorms host." Tenten was talking about a mile a minute as she gnawed her way through a strawberry tart. Naruto and Hinata were seated across from her; the group was meeting up at the only coffee counter on campus that wasn't ridiculously overpriced, the one outside of the natural sciences building that was usually frequented by sleep-deprived honors kids. Of the three of them, at the moment Hinata was the only one of them pouring over a book, a text for her literature class.<p>

"What about Casino Night? Are we supposed to go to that?" Sakura suddenly appeared at Tenten's shoulder, arms laden with books from the next door library. She plunked down on the unoccupied side of the table, groaning as her butt hit the chair. "Because I guess I'll be fine for that if you just let me alone on Saturday to sleep. The test that's been sucking my soul for the past two weeks is on Friday morning, so what's done will be done by the time poker rolls around."

"You sure? You look like you've been sleeping on a couch in the library again," Tenten gave her messy, pink bun and dark-circled eyes a critical once over. The brunette didn't catch the way Hinata blushed guiltily at her comment.

"Oh, leave me alone," Sakura muttered, shooting Naruto a dirty look as she cracked open a thick microbiology textbook with a sigh.

"Okay, sheesh, Doctor Masochist. So, back to Casino Night. Obviously these two lovesick morons are taking each other," Tenten waggled her eyebrows wickedly, "And since _I_ have been, well, _playing nurse_ to Neji, I believe he will be asking me tonight." She grinned as Naruto choked on his hot chocolate.

"Neji? Ew! What do you see in him anyway?"

"We really should not have encouraged you to prey on poor Hinata's _cousin_. She does _not_ want to hear about you two messing around, Tennie. We've created a monster," Sakura lamented glumly as Hinata's cheeks shone bright red.

Scoff. "You are being so negative today! Go get some coffee in you before I find myself wanting to fight you, Sakura Haruno. We all know you're probably just grumpy because you're still alone. All that unresolved sexual tension just isn't getting you anywhere yet with Sas- "

With perfect timing, Sasuke slid into the seat beside Sakura and wordlessly pressed a coffee into her hands, leaving Hinata forced to smack Tenten in the back to keep her from finishing her sentence. Since around the night of the blackout, Sakura had started bringing the dark-haired violinist to join their group. No one else had known, but apparently he and Naruto had actually been rivals since high school.

"Thank you, Sasuke! Now maybe this bitch will lighten up," Tenten grinned once she was through with her Hinata-induced coughing fit. Sakura just rolled her red-rimmed eyes and muttered something unpleasant under her breath.

"You do actually look tired, Sakura." To the shock of the entire table, the characteristically taciturn Sasuke actually turned to the dancer with a glimmer of concern in his coal eyes.

"... wow. That's like the first time I've ever heard his voice."

The death glare this comment earned the cheeky brunette girl from her pink-haired friend was so intense that all three people on the other side of the table quickly turned around to talk to a few acquaintances at a neighboring table without another word.

Sasuke continued to watch her as she tried to return to her reading, noted her tired eyes and the way she occasionally rubbed her back or neck and winced.

"I'd just tell them to go get a room that doesn't happen to be partly owned by you," he finally murmured to the pink-haired girl under his breath. She smelled French roast and ink on him. Sakura stiffened and looked up from her book in surprise.

"How did you know they- "

"It's written all over the moron's face. He doesn't usually look so smug. It was a good guess."

She gave him a tight, wry smile, "Yeah, well as tempting as that would be, he kind of has something on me that he's determined to blackmail me with. Nothing serious," she affirmed, taking a gulp of coffee and pushing a few locks of pink hair behind her ear, "Just, um, embarrassing."

"Ah."

Sakura decided she had either picked a very bad place, or a very _very good_ place to do her studying that afternoon, as she was soon interrupted in her reading yet again. She swore there was a little spark of sudden mischief in his gaze as she felt his eyes on her and looked up.

"What? What are you staring at?"

"That's probably the fiftieth time your neck has made you cringe. Since you refuse to stop sleeping on a couch, I guess you need help then." And before her tired brain could properly process exactly what he meant by that, Sasuke Uchiha's hands were on her, rubbing the kinks out of her back with small, firm rolling movements.

"W-what the hell are you doing?" she spluttered, realizing she was blushing like a flustered moron and hating herself for it.

For some reason, he found her shocked reaction hilarious; he couldn't resist teasing her a little more.

"Please, Sakura. I can tell you've probably been dying for a massage from me," he smirked, noted how pink her face was.

"You're such a creep sometimes, you know that?" She rolled her eyes at his teasing but didn't swat him away. Actually, it was probably exactly what she needed. She absently wondered if he was certified for this or something, because his hands felt pretty damn amazing. She didn't know what his summer job was, but now that she thought about, she figured he could probably pull of the attractive masseuse/male prostitute thing.

"Mmm," she felt herself sigh, unwillingly relaxing as she closed her eyes. She could just see his self-satisfied smirk, and decided that two could play at his game.

"Aaah. Oooh, oh _wow_. Sasuke, that feels so good! Oh, God... Oh! Oh, don't stop, Sasuke! Ooh! _Ooh! Yes!"_ Just like that, Sakura felt his hands leave her shoulders. She opened her eyes to sneak a peek at his face and couldn't help but burst into laughter at his mortified expression. She'd actually managed to make his face go red, and there were several tables staring in their direction. Tenten, Naruto, and Hinata were certainly gawking. That just made her laugh even harder.

Sasuke glared at her, waiting for her to stop laughing so he could tell her how immature she was (never mind that he had started it, of course). But somehow, even though the laughter was directed at him and his stupid flushed cheeks, it was infectious. And she did look far less tired, less stressed now. The light of the mirth in her eyes drew him in, and he couldn't help but chuckle too.

"I got you, you jerk!" she giggled, swatting at his arm teasingly.

He rolled his eyes but he was smiling, "Heh, whatever. I'll walk you back now, before you can damage your reputation any further."

"_My_ reputation?" she grinned, as he picked up both of their empty cups and pushed in the chairs. "Ooh, this guy has the most _amaaazing_ hands!" she called out to the café in a fake swoon as they walked together toward the exit.

"Sakura, you're pushing it..."

They left their three friends frozen at their table in a state of shock.

"... Um, what the hell was _that_?"

* * *

><p>"So you're coming to Casino Night, right?" Naruto practically whined in Sasuke's ear as they were setting up their instruments in class on Thursday. "I mean seriously, dude, it's tomorrow, and it'll be so much more fun if the whole group is there."<p>

The dark-haired boy scoffed at him. "We are not in a group together."

"C'mon! You can ask Sakura to be your date. It's pretty obvious that you're obsessed with her. Though I can say from experience that I don't think you're good enough for her."

"Hn. Of course I'm good enough for her."

"So you admit you like her then! Ha!" The blond suddenly pumped his fist in the air, narrowly avoiding poking a French horn player's eye out with his unchecked bow.

Deadpan. "You're such a moron, Uzumaki." Sasuke sauntered away without further comment. If only they didn't sit next to each other in this class, so he could have a chance to escape this stupidity...

Naruto jogged right after him, grinning, "Come on, you're the moron if you think it's not obvious. I've known you since high school, and I don't think I've ever even seen you _friendly_ with a girl, much less... whatever the heck you were doing to her yesterday afternoon."

"That was her fault. Now don't you dare ask again. I have better things to do with my time," the Uchiha stalked off to his seat, irritated. He was glad that he finally succeeded in getting Naruto to drop it. It wasn't any of his business how he felt.

But Sasuke missed an awful lot of notes that day. It was rare to see _him_ distracted.

* * *

><p>"I've been thinking..."<p>

"Heaven help us..."

Jiraya ignored the jab, continuing to bite at a fingernail as he watched the stage with a frown.

"Richard Strauss… he wrote the opera. But Oscar Wilde wrote the story. And Oscar Wilde can_not_ write a hot love story. Unless it's about two men, I guess..."

"Where the hell is this going?" Sakura cursed uncharacteristically, made irritable by the pain in her feet and discomfort of her sweaty clothes. Sasuke, as usual, was above responding to the annoying professor, but if he had said something, it would have been a whole lot uglier of a word that "hell". Jiraya had been impinging on their private after-practice practices lately. His presence tended to both make them drag out about an hour and a half longer that before _and_ suck out the fun of spending extra time together.

"The focus of the play is _obsession_. Salome's obsession with John the Baptist, whom she really loves. Hence the weirdness and the macabre head-chopping and whatever. The Dance of the Seven Veils isn't even the focus of the real story. But as a dance company, we're marketing that dance."

"I am not a dancer."

"Quiet, boy."

"Hn."

"So... We're going to have to modify this. I want a hot love story, not creepiness. Who would've really wanted to show up to watch the real version anyway, right?"

"Oscar Wilde is a beloved and respected writer, sir. I'm sure at least the English majors would- "

"Yeah, yeah, Sakura." Jiraya swatted away her comment. Inspiration was striking. The older man rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Now, Sasuke, you already know this. Only having the one piece would have been too little for the orchestra to play, but we didn't really want to use any of the other opera music either, so Tsunade's been teaching you all a couple of other pieces. Which are...?"

"_Danse Macabre_."

"No, the other one! Ugh, what is with this production and horror? The romantic one!"

Narrowed eyes. "_Montagues and Capulets_. By Prokofiev."

"Yes! From _Romeo and Juliet_! It's decided; I am doing more of a combination John the Baptist/King Herod character now, and the theme will be pursuing love in the face of hardship! Wonderful, right? Seriously, I should have realized that no one wanted to come watch an old man gawk at a pretty young girl. Ugh."

"Yeah, we all try to keep telling you how _disgusting_ that situation is, sir."

"Hurtful, Sakura... I am not an _old man_. Okay then! Let's try it!" Sly grin. "I'm going to need more heat between you two! More longing! More sexy stares!"

Sigh. "I'm sure this can qualify as sexual harassment somehow."

* * *

><p>She had them stop early by faking a pain in her left ankle after one of her landings.<p>

Sakura felt hyperaware of the fact that it was Friday night, Casino Night, and she and Sasuke were still in the auditorium practicing. She hated to admit it, but Tenten hadn't exactly been off base with her accusations that she was pining for Sasuke to make some kind of move. So she wanted the option open for them; it wasn't like he didn't realize the event was going on or anything. And she could tell they had been getting closer lately.

In fact, the other half of her excuse for faking an injury was that she was becoming slightly startled at just _how_ close they were getting. Ever since Tenten had made that 'sexual tension' comment, it was now constantly lurking in the back of her mind, poisoning all of their interactions. Of course, the fact that Jiraya was now making them dance together as lovers wasn't exactly helping...

She sighed, "Sorry, it'll be fine after I sleep on it. Thanks for understanding."

"Hn. As long as you can still dance."

Sakura shouldered her bag, feeling horribly awkward. "So. Are you going to that thing tonight?"

"Casino Night. I hadn't planned to."

He watched her bite her bottom lip as she weighed his answer, another one of those annoyingly cute habits that drove him crazy. She seemed to make up her mind, and took a few hesitant steps closer - too close - to him, her lips parted as if she was getting ready to speak. A small hand flew self-consciously to her hair, her fingers twisting in the escaped strands.

He was burning inside. Her eyes, her lips, everything about her was igniting emotions that wreaked havoc on him like sparks in a forest. He was always so hot lately, burning with fever, burning with desire - all for her. Sasuke was sure even he didn't possess enough self-control to handle the way things were between them any longer.

She was the only one who could bring him relief. The impulse to touch her, to thread his hands in that hair, to brush that lower lip, was suddenly overpowering. He was reaching out a hand before his head could really process what his body was doing. As he stroked the smooth skin of her cheek, he thought that she was in fact as soft and cool as a damp cloth a mother might tenderly lay on the forehead of her feverish child. He fought back a groan of frustration. Why then did he just feel like the fire was consuming him faster than ever now?

Her green eyes stared up into his. They were so wide and innocent - he could see her shock at his actions clearly reflected in the green underneath the long lashes. He clenched his jaw at the look she gave him; it was a startled look, but in it he could clearly see trust. She trusted him. For that, he knew he had to get a grip on himself, before he did anything he'd regret.

The desperation and hunger in his eyes was apparent. It took nearly everything in him to remove his hand from her face, to turn away. Her eyes widened further still, and she bit her bottom lip again, something she did when she was unsure; it trembled just slightly as she shivered at memory of his touch.

"I have to go," he muttered, stalking away. He had to get out. It was too tempting, knowing he had her there alone, his for the taking if he was of a mind to do so. But she trusted him. He didn't know when that had begun to matter so much, but it did. He was gone, just a black blur out the door of the theatre, before she even had a chance to say anything.

He left in such a hurry, that, as she was shutting down the stage lights, Sakura's eyes happened upon a dark, irregular shadow in the wings of the stage.

* * *

><p>He took a shower; the hot water was the only way he could start to feel even a little calm after being alone with Sakura in the theatre. The powerful jets of scalding water seemed to beat a little sense into his head. When he started to feel feverish again, he wrenched the temperature control all the way to the cold side and froze himself numb. He wondered absently if he was turning into a masochist.<p>

There were telltale signs around the house that a responsible adult was now actually around often; when Sasuke went into his room to find clothes to change into, instead of picking his sweats off of the floor and hoping they were clean, he had folded pairs left for him on his bureau that smelled like fabric softener. His brother had taken to bringing his work home more often lately. Sasuke knew Itachi was worried about him, and he felt bad to be causing his older brother trouble. The man was currently asleep on his desk, slumped over blueprints for a new building he was designing.

He had just pulled on the retrieved casual clothes and was rubbing a towel through his damp, tangled hair when the doorbell rang. Sasuke was so lost in his thoughts at that point that he didn't even remember to look through the peephole. He instantly regretted his carelessness.

"... Sakura."

"You left your violin," she smiled faintly, holding out the case. He took it from her gingerly, careful not to even touch her fingertips in the transaction. He caught her shiver beneath her jacket as he continued to stare awkwardly. Then he felt bad for leaving her out in the drafty hallway when she'd been so considerate as to immediately return the precious instrument and family heirloom to him. He knew she lived a good twenty minute walk across campus from him, and the air was bitingly cold.

He didn't know how to ask her inside, so he just held the door open wide and hoped she understood.

"Okay. Thank you." She took one step into the apartment; he tried not to think too much about the consequences of shutting the door behind her. The action felt thick with implications to him. Then, he also knew he was probably just thinking completely insane (and inappropriate) thoughts at this point.

The door shut with a click that echoed in the following silence.

She didn't sit. He wondered if it was because he didn't ask her to or if the closed door worried her too. He half wondered if he should ask her which it was.

He avoided making a decision by asking her instead if she wanted any coffee as she removed her jacket. He found the most unembarrassing mug he could for her two creams, two sugars (his brother had a mild obsession with buying ones embossed with any lame math and science joke he could find). It was impossibly difficult for him to read her expression as he returned and sank down with the cups onto the couch she'd finally perched herself on.

He drained his cup quickly; she took small occasional sips. It was silent. He cleared his throat. She turned to look at him as he made the sound.

As she looked him full on in the face, he could finally see the question in her green eyes. She had not forgotten the way he had so suddenly touched her. In addition to her question, there also seemed to be an answer to his own questions. How long had he been looking for hope in her eyes now, weeks? The glimmer of quiet longing as she met his burning black gaze, that was an answer straight from the gods.

He couldn't help himself any longer; he snatched the coffee cup from her hands, let it clatter to the table, and he kissed her.

~ O ~

There was no way this was happening. She failed her test that morning so horribly that the gods had immediately struck her dead in disgust, and she was just in heaven now. Or she had collapsed from exhaustion while studying, and this was all just an elaborate good dream. If that one was the case, she just hoped that she was lucky enough to have landed into a coma, the kind that would last a few days, or maybe a week.

His hands were gentle, cupping her face as if she was something breakable, but the contrasting fire and urgency in his lips shocked her. Somehow, unbelievably, it matched her own emotions. After only a moment of hesitation, she kissed him back, just as fiercely. He couldn't hold back a low groan at the feel of her mouth moving with his, her slender fingers delving into his hair and brushing against his skin. He had her pushed back on the couch, his weight hovering over her, before he knew it.

His lips were moving now, from her mouth to just below her ear, to her neck. The feel of his teeth against the underside of her jaw had her gasping and giving little moans of satisfaction. She wanted to laugh at the similarity to the shoulder rub in the cafe the other day; this time her reaction was anything but fake or exaggerated.

Her jacket was long gone, and he was ghosting his fingertips just below the hem of her shirt, making her squirm. She got his shirt off surprisingly quickly; her hands were cold against his chest, and when he shivered under her touch it was more from something deeper and achier than the chill. His own hands flew to her waist, toying with the waistband of the ridiculous shorts she insisted on wearing even in the cold. They joined his shirt on the floor.

~ O ~

Things were moving so fast. As happy as Sakura was, she couldn't help but think that all of this sudden heat and passion was for the sake of some one-night stand. Hell, they'd just kissed for the first time, and minutes later he'd carried her to his bed. It wasn't that they both didn't want this, because honestly, this was all she'd been wanting for weeks and weeks. She just couldn't help but wish that maybe it could mean a little more, that _she_ could mean a little more _to him_. He certainly meant a lot to her, whether he was going to use her or not. She'd already fallen and fallen hard; her choice had been made.

He was picking up the pace of things again, but then she really was encouraging him. Her moans egged him on, and she pushed herself closer and closer to him with every roll of his hips. She couldn't exactly criticize him for losing control when there she was, unable to stop herself from wrapping her legs around his narrow waist. He was arching into every one of her touches, getting lost in the feel of it all. The both of them were gasping wildly.

And then, suddenly, he paused.

Her body trembled in the sudden loss of all the heat as he removed his lips from her neck and his hands from her sides. He rested his arms on either side of her head, breathing heavily as he drank in her hazy eyes and disheveled hair. She watched as a small smile pulled at his lips, and her name tumbled out, quietly, just once. To her surprise, he managed to get his breathing under control and then he brushed his hands across her face, smoothing her mussed hair from her damp, warm skin. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to her sweaty forehead. And then another, on her lips.

It was then that she knew for sure this was something more to him.

She smiled into their kiss, touched his face in return, just as gently, and they slowly let the heat build from there.  
>It wasn't fast and frenzied and clumsy. It was a thousand times more meaningful.<p>

* * *

><p>Sakura came out of her building's elevator and down her hall, where for the fourth time that week she found a sock pulled over the doorknob to the room she and Hinata shared. She smirked to herself with anticipation as she knocked loudly on the door.<p>

"Sock!" she heard Naruto's voice holler from inside.

"I'm coming in, guys!" She used her key to unlock the door, being slow about it just in case she saw something she wasn't supposed to.

Naruto was wrestling with his shirt, trying to drag it back down over his head with a grumpy expression on his face. Hinata just looked like she was mortified enough to pass out. Sakura breezed in, fighting back her smile. Victory was about to be hers.

"What, did you forget something in here, Sakura?" Naruto griped at her, "Because you know the arrangement we have here. I can come over as much as I want, or I'm telling wittle Sasuke you have a cwush on him." She rolled her eyes at his obnoxious behavior; he really was the stupid brother she never had. Some realization seemed to come into the blond's head, because all of a sudden the sight of her made him smile. Lewdly.

"That is, unless you're suddenly into _watching_..."

"Not quite," she scoffed, her heart going out to poor Hinata who looked about two seconds shy of a brain hemorrhage. Sakura took a step out into the hallway, a smug smile on her face, and came back with a tall, dark-haired violinist in tow. While her friends watched in confusion, Sakura looked up into Sasuke's eyes, and suddenly the dark-haired boy was gripping her shoulders and her arms were locked around his neck and they were _kissing_. Heatedly.

"Yeah, about that, Naruto," the pink-haired girl finally said once they'd stopped and she'd managed to catch her breath, "Um, he kind of_ already knows._" She smiled sweetly, "So, I think _we_ will be claiming this bedroom for today. Out."

* * *

><p><strong>Wow. That was even more embarrassing than I'd imagined it would be. I know, I can't write romance. Please don't judge me! Ugh! <strong>*slams face into keyboard* <strong>**

**Well... Really sorry for the long wait, you guys! Every one of you is seriously awesome for sticking with me and putting up with my insane tardiness for this long. *sigh* And things aren't exactly going to get a lot better, since I go back to school late next month. I'll get to cranking out as much as I can before then; only a few more chapters to go!**

**Love you all; you get cake for having mercy on me/being awesome! R&R**


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